


Pros and Cons

by waltrewhite



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Daft Punk Slash, M/M, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waltrewhite/pseuds/waltrewhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Bangalter is the average guy: basketball, beer, and girls. His life is black and white, that is until he meets Guy-Man: expressive, artsy, musically talented genius, that Thomas doesn't even know exists. They meet, and suddenly everything is shades of gray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pros and Cons

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beautiful betas Katie and Claire, and to Tiff for all her support ♥

The first time he sees Guy-Man, it’s while he’s getting blown in a bathroom stall. They lost their 1st basketball game of the season 3 hours before and he needed to take some edge off. Thomas came as he heard someone open the door, hurriedly telling the guy to get up and act natural. He was the captain of the basketball team, and Cherry didn’t need to know that he was basically getting fucked by a different guy every day of the week.

 

He opened the stall – making the guy hide behind the door – and nodded at Guy-Man. His features were so distinct and delicate. Different. Thomas was sure he'd seen him somewhere before. Maybe he'd bought him a coffee, given him a handjob at a museum expo, something artsy like that. But no, Guy-Man just nodded back, washed his hands, and walked out, Thomas staring at his ass in those tacky, ripped jeans.

 

The guy – was it Alexander or Adrien? – slowly came out of the stall and thanked Thomas, all blushy and flustered. Thomas just narrowed his eyes at him and repeated for probably the 87th time, “Let’s keep this between us,” and walked out of the bathroom doors.

 

And then suddenly he could remember.

 

His name was Andrew.

 

***

 

Thomas sat in his car and called Julian. It was 10 o’clock and he didn’t feel like going home, and Julian always knew the best places to find some cheap weed.

 

“Hey, bro! Where are you?” Julian slurred, cheering and laughter almost entirely drowning out his voice.

 

“Well if you tell me what party you’re at, I’ll come find you,” Thomas said, making a barely legal turn down the mostly empty streets.

 

“I’m at Christian’s house -hic- obviously,” he responded before hanging up.

 

Thomas stared at his phone for a second and then locked it, muttering “shit” underneath his breath as he contemplated going to the party.

 

_Pros_

_\- He’d connect with friends he hadn’t seen in a while._

_\- He needed to forget about the fact that they could have won their basketball game._

_\- He’d get drunk, and then he’d forget about everything._

_\- He’d get high, and then he’d forget about everything._

_\- He’d end up forgetting about everything._

 

_Cons_

_-_

 

 

Party it is.

 

***

 

He was barely five feet through the door before he saw Julian, shirtless and drunk, with two girls on each arm.

 

“Broooooo, you caaaaame,” Julian said unintelligibly as he slung a wet arm over Thomas’ shoulder.

 

“Why the fuck is your arm wet, Jules?” Thomas retorted, taking Julian’s arm off and smiling sheepishly at the girls.

 

Julian ignored him, grabbed one of the girls on his left - the bottle blonde with a huge rack - and kissed her sloppily, the girl giggling as she ran her fingers through Julian’s greasy hair.

 

“Oh. U-Um,” Thomas muttered, looking away and shuffling off, hopefully to find some type of drink and maybe get high with the art freaks and listen to The 1975 or some obscure band, and then end up passed out in the front yard.Some guy from across the room eyed him and Thomas looked around, making sure none of his basketball friends were around before he winked back and smiled broadly.

 

And then all at once, he relaxed. It was noise and colored lights and tight hot bodies and a mist of beer, sweat, and pot filling the air. It was familiar and he could finally navigate his way to the keg, pushing away all the shitty feelings and complications that always got in the way. He’d gone for vodka instead and was downing shots, trying to numb the sting of claustrophobia, when he saw him again.

 

His face was familiar; high cheekbones, pouty pink lips, shoulder length thick, dark hair, and an easy smile that he was currently flashing to a cute blonde with a shoulder to waist ratio that was basically impossible.

 

What was his name again?

 

“Guy-Man?” he called out, the loud music vibrating in his ear.

 

Guy-Man shuffled over, the words “Save the Fucking Whales” scrawled on his shirt, and a joint in his hand. And then Thomas knew.

 

He was a freak.

 

One of the weird guys that always drank chai mochas and was in art club and went to peace rallies and talked about how nice it was to fall in love all the goddamn time. Thomas knew the type; he had fucked a guy at a _whatever_ rally and the guy wouldn't stop calling him and insisting they went on an “ _actual date_ ”.

 

Thomas scoffed. He hadn’t been on an actual date in forever.

 

“Hey, what’s up?” Guy-Man said, suddenly standing directly in front of him, looking Thomas in the eyes, reeking of pot.

 

“Oh,” Thomas chuckled nervously, “I just meant to say hi, sorry; I’m kinda tipsy.”

 

“What are you drinking?” Guy-Man said, his eyes shining.

 

Thomas just looked at him. Guy-Man was considerably shorter, and – Thomas had to admit had a nice body; His pecs and arms visibly outlined through his shirt, even in the dark room, and he had a cute little ass.

 

“Thomas?” Guy-Man looked at him curiously. “Are you drinking something?”

 

“Oh fuck, s-sorry, I d-d-d-didn’t m-mean to –” Thomas stuttered, his face flushing and his stomach turning and clenching.

He hated when he stuttered. He had to go for speech improvement classes on Saturdays and this goddamn stutter got him kicked the crap out of basically every day in middle school. But it had been a while since he had stuttered this badly.

 

Why the fuck was this guy making him stutter so much?

 

“Oh it’s okay, no big deal. But hey, are you here with anyone?” Guy-Man replied easily, running a hand through his glossy hair.

 

“Not really.” Thomas muttered. You’d think the captain of the varsity basketball team would be the one with people all around him.

 

“Well me and my friends are smoking in the back and someone scored some Bacardi. Do you want to come?”

 

“O-okay.” Guy-Man grabbed his arm and smiled at him, wedging in between a girl screaming at her boyfriend about fucking the entire cheerleading squad and another guy head banging to the Rolling Stones song blaring out of the speakers.

 

Thomas blushed and smiled as Guy-Man guided him, not bothering to check if any of his friends might have seen him.

 

Guy-Man led him into the backyard, littered with bottles of beer, baggies of weed, and people passed out in beanbag chairs.

 

Guy-Man slid into a lawn chair in front of the pool as Thomas slid into the one next to him.

 

“So,” Guy-Man said as he handed Thomas a bottle of beer “What’s up with you?”

 

“What’s up with me?” Thomas questioned as he took the beer, his hand brushing against Guy-Man’s as his face flushed for the 87th time that day.

 

“Yeah. For god’s sakes, you’re captain of the basketball team. Shouldn’t you be out with your ‘bros’?” Guy-Man said exaggeratedly.

 

“Please. We lost the game, didn’t you hear?” Thomas replied, taking a swig of the beer, and recoiling a bit at the warmth of it.

 

“Oh. I’m sorry about that.” Guy-Man consoled, his bright blue eyes going dark as if Thomas just told him he had Stage VI cancer.

 

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” Thomas reassured, “We have another one this Thursday against Westbrook and we always beat their asses to a pulp.”

 

“Cool.” Guy-Man said back. There was an awkward silence as both of them lay on the chairs and stared at the stars that had just started to come out.

 

And then Guy-Man said quietly, “Should I come to your game?”

 

Thomas turned to face him, Guy-Man already doing the same.

 

How long had he been staring at him?

 

“I m-m-mean I g-guess.” Thomas stammered, staring at Guy-Man intensely. The only person that came to his games was Cherry and, as a cheerleader, she kinda had to be there.

 

“I’ll be there.” Guy-Man smiled as he winked and turned to look at the sky again.

 

Thomas could feel his face getting hot as he glanced at Guy-Man again, studying his pale skin and his lips.

 

He probably gave incredible blowjobs with those lips.

 

Suddenly the thought of Guy-Man on his knees, sucking him off, his hair pulled back as he licked and sucked around the base of his cock, swallowing his come and looking up at him with those bright blue eyes –

 

Thomas crossed his legs.

 

Why the fuck did he have a boner?

 

“Do you want some shots?” Thomas blurted. He needed _something_ to get his mind off of the fact that he was hard for this –

 

“U-um yeah, sure,” Guy-Man said as he started to get up and make his way back into the house.

 

Thomas fantasized about his naked grandma in attempts to kill his boner, which – thank god – worked.

 

Thomas and Guy-Man walked back into the building; the hall opened up into a dining room-turned-dancefloor; the tables had been pushed back against the wall to host a variety of alcoholic beverages and a sound system squatted beneath them.

 

Thomas grabbed a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses and a half empty bag of weed next to someone’s cracked iPhone.

 

“Let’s go get fucked up.” Thomas said with a grin.

 

Guy-Man smiled back, his straight white teeth shining and his long black lashes batted at Thomas as he whispered back,

 

“Let’s go get fucked up.”

 

***

 

Two bottles of tequila, a bottle of vodka, and a bag and a half of weed later, Guy-Man and Thomas were making out sloppily, Guy-Man’s hands up Thomas’ shirt, Thomas running his long fingers through Guy-Man’s hair, moaning and whimpering as Guy-Man jerked his knee up, brushing it against Thomas’ half-hard cock.

 

“Touch me.” Thomas whispered into Guy-Man’s ear. Guy-Man subsequently obliged by putting his hand down Thomas’ pants and rubbing him in long strokes.

 

Thomas shuddered, his face flushing. Guy-Man just felt so nice against him, on top of him, touching him. They both tasted like alcohol and pot and Thomas knew he was sweaty, but who the fuck cared? They were both teenagers and Thomas deserved to be jerked off by –

 

“Thomaaaaaas? Thomaaaaaaaaaaaaas! Are you out here?”

 

 _Shit_. Jules.

 

Quickly, Thomas shoved Guy-Man off of him, Guy-Man wincing at his forcefulness.

 

“What the fuck?” Guy-Man spat, annoyedly.

 

Thomas ignored him, quickly getting up and straightening his shirt, praying to God that his boner would be gone soon.

 

“Thomas, what the fuck is going on?” Guy-Man asked again, visibly getting more and more upset.

 

“I’ll tell you in a second, okay?” Thomas reassured.

 

“Tey, Homas?” Julian said as he came through the door.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Thomas replied anxiously, “What’s wrong? Did you need me for something?”

 

“Nope! Noooothing!” Julian laughed, unbelievably drunker than he was a few hours ago.

 

“Maybe it’s time to go home, huh Jules?” Thomas asked, smiling uncomfortably at an extremely angry Guy-Man who was crossing his arms as his eyes narrowed, the light blue suddenly turning steely ice.

 

“Yeeeeah, Ithinksotoo,” Julian slurred, stumbling back into the house, “I’ll get a ride with -hic- Ethan. Catch you later sweetheart! Don’t fuck too many girls while I’m gone!”

 

“Catch you later,” Thomas said back, as he slowly turned to face Guy-Man.

 

“Thomas. What the fuck was that.” Guy-Man hissed - It wasn’t a question – it was a statement of disbelief.

 

“Sorry, my friend Julian always gets way too drunk at parties and I kinda need to watch out for him, you know?”

 

“Oh, I saw that. But why did you push me off of you?”

 

“Well, he was there. I couldn’t just –”

 

“Do your friends know you’re gay?”

 

Thomas stared, saying nothing, his expression going dark.

 

“Are you embarrassed to be gay?” Guy-Man asked, looking at him as if he was some type of broken soul that needed to be saved.

 

Before he even knew what was happening he shoved Guy-Man forcefully, Guy-Man sliding back, a look of surprise plastered on his face.

 

“What the fuck did you say to me, faggot?” Thomas whispered bitingly.

 

Guy-Man froze, his mouth opening and closing, but he said nothing. His long hair was sticking to his neck, the humidity of the day finally taking effect on him. He looked lost and uncertain and as light and fragile as paper.

 

And then he shoved Thomas.

 

“What is your problem?”

 

“I’m not fucking gay.” Thomas spat, shoving Guy-Man back another step.

 

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Just because I was gonna let you get me off you act like you know me?”

 

Guy-Man looked livid now, face red and eyes burning; lethal.

 

“Well, I just thought since you were making out with me and asking me to touch your dick-”

 

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not gay, you’re just a fucking slut. A loser, an outsider, a whore that gets wasted and fucks every guy he sees. You don’t get to say shit about me. I win awards for the school, I’m fucking the head cheerleader, everyone worships the ground I walk on. You think you can just--”

 

And then Thomas knew he wasn’t sober as he thought he might have been, as he saw the stars swim around him, the night swallowing him whole, Guy-Man’s arms crossed above him as he passed out.


End file.
